My books to read are creeping up around me. Not just some list of books I'd like to get my hands on and read at some point, but actual, physical books that I've purchased over the years. Some I've had for several years and still haven't opened. It's like some weird literary hoarders. Maybe not that bad. But yeah, I've got a problem. I'm telling you, because I know that you'll understand. You've been there. You're probably there now. If you're reading this blog, you've probably got a book-buying problem as bad as mine.
This is what my to-read bookshelf (yes I have a whole bookshelf devoted to unread books) looked like on Friday:
And this is what it looks like today:
My town library's annual book sale was this weekend and, of course, I went. Twice. Once right after they opened to get the good picks, and once right before it was over to clean up and fill a sack for $5. The winnings (first day's picks are on the left, second day's on the right):
Yes, I know that there are two copies of Beloved. I bought a copy for $1 the first day, and then found another copy in better condition on the second day and got it since it wouldn't cost me extra. And i haven't read the two books in the Thursday Next series prior to One of Our Thurdays is Missing yet but what was I supposed to do, leave it there? That's reasonable, right? Right?
I comfort myself by telling myself that I buy most of my books used. They cost me hardly anything, so I should get them while they're cheap, right? Sound logic, except that if I never read the thing, even $1 is too much. Then again, even if I don't read them for 30 years, it's still worth the dollar in the long run. And that kind of logic is what results in me alphabetizing this year's book sale books right alongside last year's book sale books as well as those copies of Lolita and A Clockwork Orange that I've had since high school. High school. Granted, I'm fairly young, but that still means those books are at very least seven years old, and up to eleven (in my defense, I've tried and failed to read both but have yet to give up on either).
The ultimate defense: my book addiction is both cheaper and more preferable than crack. So all you smokers and nail biters can leave me alone!
How does my TBR pile compare to yours? Better? Worse? How do you justify it?